


Melancholy Blues

by mirqueen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver’s bad night starts to look up when he does his level best to help Felicity improve her own unhappy evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Special Night

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_ or _The Flash_ , which belong to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: A story that takes place sometime during or after Arrow Episode 2x09 (Three Ghosts). Please remember this was before we actually met Barry on the show. Here are [outfit inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65029852401/melancholy-blues-festive-felicitys-festive) for the story. Also posted on my Tumblr account [Hoodsmoaked](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/).

> **Chapter 1: A Special Night**

The night was still extremely young when Oliver awkwardly ended his so-called date with Laurel, stiffly and silently ushered her out to a cab, and left the expensive restaurant only twenty minutes after arriving.

His next destination for the evening, he decided, was going to be somewhere decidedly unromantic. Considering his current shoddy mood, the fact it was two days before Christmas, and the very homey, atmospheric quality which had overcome the mansion, he determined Verdant to be the best place for his wishes. 

Oliver felt quite relieved that Digg and Felicity were both out on their own dates that night. It would leave the foundry devoid of humanity so he could pound his frustrations out on the nearest available equipment without raising hackles or eyebrows. Laurel had become rather a touchy subject for the team, and after the few unfortunate times Oliver had put Laurel ahead of the team several months prior, he couldn’t really blame his two partners for it. But that didn’t mean he wanted to listen as they lambasted him when he was already in such a foul mood.

Sighing as he turned into Glades territory nearer the club, Oliver felt a little badly for thinking that way. Having some alone time should not be the reason for him to feel glad about his friends’ absences. No matter how Oliver’s own night turned out, Digg and Felicity deserved some time off regardless.

John had finally worked things out with Carly since their breakup almost seven months earlier, admitting to her in a roundabout way what bothered him so much. The former soldier was trying very hard to find a balance between his hate for Lawton and his love for Carly. Working through the emotions and the pain together, John and Carly were starting to heal a little and move forward from Andy’s murder. The date Digg and Carly were on that very evening was the first truly romantic one in their tumultuous time together, according to John’s estimate. It was well deserved.

Felicity, by contrast, had just started her first genuinely serious relationship two months earlier. In Barry Allen, Felicity had found a kindred spirit who was just as energetic and rambled just as much as the blond-haired IT genius. Their date that evening was of her own making, in the hopes of deepening the relationship with Barry on an emotional level.

The latter seemed to be caused by Felicity’s occasionally sad and melancholic moods lately — in a way that made her feel badly even if the day was good — and Oliver didn’t like it. This behavior on Felicity’s part was very odd, because it appeared to happen entirely irregardless of how happy Barry made her. The only thing she would tell Oliver when he admitted his concern was a vague mention of her awkward youth and lack of experience in relationships. Even Diggle, who had become an occasional counselor for Felicity after the Glades tragedy, had been genuinely confused and worried about these unexpected moods, which made Oliver more concerned than ever. Given the stringent nature of their relationship thus far and his own shortcomings grating on Felicity so often, however, Oliver had learned not to press further for fear of her retreating from him.

Now, as he parked in the lot at Verdant and slammed the door shut behind him, the billionaire started to worry about Felicity all over again. In addition to his disastrous, Tommy-shadowed dinner with an oddly overdressed Laurel, this unusual darkness in the bright light that was Felicity just further degenerated his mood.

Walking to the back of the club with a distinctly violent stomp in his step, Oliver practically yanked the heavy door into a bind as he pulled it open and headed inside.

Barely half a step in, and Oliver stopped as suddenly as if he’d been body-slammed.

There was a very low blue light from the back of the lair, shining dimly out over the back half of the room. Immediately, he realized it was coming from one of the computers. No animal could get through the tight steel frame of the rebuilt club foundations, so it had to be a person waiting down there. With Digg and Felicity both out on dates, Oliver feared who could have made their way into the basement.

As he slipped down the stairs on silent feet, Oliver appreciated his excellent night vision. It was this very trait which enabled him to recognize the curled blond hair of the IT genius he’d been worrying about. She faced a black screen full of codes, but nothing was moving, so Oliver guessed she had fallen asleep.

Tension eased out of his coiled body at once, and with a nearly inaudible sigh, he headed back to the lever for the main lights and flipped it up.

A gasp came from the computers as she turned with a startled gaze to face him, and he found Felicity staring over her shoulder with wide eyes. Surprised not only that she was awake, but also that she was wearing glasses rather than contacts, Oliver tried to determine what she was doing all alone in the dark. What disturbed him more than anything were the tears still wet upon her cheeks.

"Felicity?" he asked in concern, brow furrowing in an instant. All thoughts of his wasted date flew out of his mind and he made quick work of the distance between them, coming to her side with a hand already lifted to hover over her shoulder.

"Felicity, what’s wrong?" he inquired, allowing his worry to show in the words.

Looking embarrassed, Felicity turned away from his piercing gaze and refused to answer.

“ _Talk_  to me,” Oliver tried, gentle but insistent as he finally laid his hand on her shoulder.

The words seemed to open a dam for Felicity, who emitted a single breathy sob before covering her mouth with both sets of fingers. When she began to tremble, Oliver didn’t hesitate to grasp both of her shoulders in his palms and turn her towards him.

"Did someone do something to you?" he questioned firmly.

Unable to speak through her tears, the small blonde just shook her head.

Sighing a little frustratedly at his friend’s silence, Oliver glanced down to think of a new approach. It was then he noticed Felicity was wearing the red and white pumps she had been breaking-in the last several nights. The same high heels she had been planning to wear for her date. Glancing back up at her, Oliver tried to see if she was still wearing any kind of formal clothing. Beneath the blanket Felicity had pulled around herself, he just caught sight of heavy red lace over a slightly satiny white fabric. Not casual wear, he would bet.

Suspicion filled Oliver’s mind and he asked in a very deadly, quiet voice, “Did  _he_  hurt you?”

The shake of Felicity’s head was less certain this time, more cautious, as if she wasn’t sure what constituted ‘hurting’ her. With that tiny hesitation, Oliver saw red. In an instant he was on his feet, all prepared to Hood up and teach a rough lesson to the idiot who had hurt his IT girl. Not bothering to consider the ramifications of calling Felicity ‘his’ in any way, Oliver moved to the case containing his suit.

"No!" the woman herself choked out through continued tears, her chair squawking as she jumped up from it. "Oliver!"

"I will  _not_  let him get away with hurting you,” he growled, reaching to open the case in spite of her plea.

"No, please!" Felicity tried again, suddenly wedging herself between Oliver and the casing before he could pull it open. The sight of the tears drying on her face only angered him further, but he wasn’t about to move her forcibly after she’d already been hurt.

"Barry didn’t touch me, I swear!" Felicity finally got out, her voice wobbling yet certain as her hand landed on his chest for restraint.

"I asked if he hurt you and you weren’t even sure about it," Oliver insisted, hoping the blonde hadn’t become a statistic of denial.

"He never hurt me physically!" she countered, biting her lip as she looked up at him. "He… he said he never… wanted to  _see_  me again. That I was just… using him until I… got… until I got…”

As she spoke, Felicity degenerated to tears again and slumped where she stood against the case. Deflating a little as he realized where this might be leading, Oliver stepped away and cautiously drew her with him, stepping towards the swivel chair to settle her back into it, blanket and all.

Oliver settled on the floor at Felicity’s feet, taking her red-nailed fingers into his own, and asked slowly, “What happened?”

"He seemed happy and sweet whenever I mentioned this date," Felicity said quietly, unhappily, not even bothering to swipe away the buildup of moisture in her eyes. "It wasn’t until we got to the restaurant tonight that he acted so… so…"

Incapable of finding an adequate word for Barry’s behavior, Felicity shook her head and went on, “He always compliments my appearance, even if it’s just to say I look nice, but tonight he didn’t say anything. He barely looked at me until the waiter came to take our order. It was like he’d seen something terrible, but I didn’t understand what it could be. All through the appetizer, he just picked at the food and wouldn’t talk to me. He just grunted as if he couldn’t stand actually speaking to me.”

Now that she had finally started talking about her night, it appeared Felicity couldn’t help herself from continuing, and Oliver wasn’t about to stop her.

"Then the waiter came with the entree," she pressed onward, "and Barry made some comment about my choice of restaurant. I honestly just didn’t hear him very clearly, because I noticed someone on the other side of the floor who looked like my old roommate. I realized it wasn’t her, so I turned back and asked Barry to repeat what he said. He was actually  _angry_  with me for it. And then he told me I just wanted to stare at my boss.”

Felicity looked almost afraid to tell him the last part, and Oliver understood exactly why. Frozen in place, he pieced together the way the evening must have gone with uncomfortable precision.

"You were at… The Palisades?" he eventually ground out awkwardly, withholding a wince.

"I kept hoping that after tonight we’d be a couple, not just dates on call. I wanted it to be a really special night," Felicity cried quietly, tears falling more rapidly from her eyes. "I didn’t know you were going there, I promise I didn’t. I would have chosen somewhere else if I ‘d known."

Oliver sighed heavily, comprehending very easily how Felicity’s date had gone so bad. And why she was apologizing for something ridiculous like not picking a different restaurant. The very idea that she was apologizing for it proved her emotional condition was very fragile for the time being.

"Barry saw me across the floor with Laurel," he concluded knowingly, unhappily. "We must have been sitting near the woman who looked like your old roommate. Is that it?"

"I glanced over to check," Felicity wobbled, swiping at her cheek unsuccessfully. "Then I saw you and Laurel three tables away from that woman… I tried to explain, but Barry was so jealous and he wouldn’t listen… He thinks we’re—"

"I know. I’m sorry," Oliver reassured Felicity, kindly shushing her and squeezing her shoulders through the blanket still caught in a white-knuckled grip between her delicate fingers.

* * *

 


	2. A Sensitive Soul

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_ or _The Flash_ , which belong to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: A story that takes place sometime during or after Arrow Episode 2x09 (Three Ghosts). Please remember this was before we actually met Barry on the show. On with the second part. This has a lot of things I would love to see Felicity and Oliver talk about. Didn’t intend all of the drama that follows, but it just seemed to fit. Here are [outfit inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65029852401/melancholy-blues-festive-felicitys-festive) for the story. Also posted on my Tumblr account [Hoodsmoaked](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/).

> **Chapter 2: A Sensitive Soul**

Felicity continued to cry quietly, and the sight of her looking so small and vulnerable in her festive little dress and pumps made Oliver’s heart ache. For all the strength she had been blessed with, Felicity was still a sensitive soul. Her heart was large and welcoming, but when stepped on, it seemed more tender than most of the women in Oliver’s life.

Holding Felicity’s fingers in silent comfort as the tears kept falling, Oliver remembered abruptly that he had not seen the red mini cooper out in the parking lot.

"Did he leave you there without a ride?" Oliver demanded.

Felicity hesitated a long moment before she tearfully confirmed, “Yes. I took a cab to get here.”

Growling at the back of his throat, Oliver decided he would give Barry Allen a nice, solid fist in the jaw, next time he could get him alone.

Frowning, Oliver suddenly wondered, “Why didn’t you go home?”

"I didn’t want to be by myself," Felicity confessed in small voice, hunching in on herself a little. "When I’m down here working on the computers, I don’t feel so alone."

"You don’t have to be alone," he immediately reassured her, the promise coming as easily as breathing.

"But I already have been," she responded extremely softly, her face teetering on the edge of helplessness.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Oliver held her gaze with a mixture of shock and guilt. It wasn’t difficult to understand what Felicity meant.

"I…" He attempted to speak, but nothing came to him that didn’t sound cheap. Still he tried, "Diggle… You seem so much closer, I thought he was there for you. Helping you through it."

"We’re close in a strangely distant way," Felicity shrugged, looking down at her hands. "As good as he’s been to me, he’s not the kind of friend for me to cry on his shoulder. It’s not… what we’re like."

"I wasn’t there for you," Oliver said abruptly, but quietly, the strain evident in his voice.

"I know why you left," Felicity assured him, but her weak voice didn’t make him feel any better. "You lost so much… Tommy, your mother, Laurel, your purpose, and… it was almost impossible to take it all in. I know that. I understand, really. It’s just…"

Felicity hesitated, opening her mouth to speak, but seeming to pull back. Whatever she was about to say, Oliver knew he wouldn’t like it.

"It’s just…?" he prompted her anyway, knowing she needed to get it out of her system after all these months of feeling it. He couldn’t be selfish anymore; he couldn’t keep avoiding his failings.

"As great as Digg is," Felicity continued, relieved yet unhappy judging by her expression and the ruby lip caught between her teeth, "He was in the hospital, or dealing with Carly and A.J., or watching over Thea, or helping with what little recovery the Glades could manage. He wasn’t there to talk to. I was amazed he even told me about breaking up with Carly. And even without all of that… you were the person I learned to keep in touch with. It was you I called when I found information on something. It was you I called when Helena was there. You were the one I trusted to rescue me with the bomb collar and in the casino and in the foundry after the quake and I know I can’t just expect you to dedicate yourself to me and I don’t think that, but it… it…"

She was getting much too worked up, starting to breath irregularly in her emotion. Oliver squeezed her arms firmly, hoping to bring her back under control of herself, even a little, but feeling shame all the while for the brilliant blonde having this kind of pain at all.

Taking a ragged breath, Felicity pressed on in spite of herself, “It was so hard to keep going. After you got me out of the club, I was so scared still and I felt like I failed, too. I know you were going through a lot, but you just left me at my apartment and I didn’t hear from you again until I saw you on the island.”

Oliver bristled at his own selfishness, the fact that this brave woman had risked so much and still had to be the first to reach out in their friendship. It should have been the other way around. Felicity wasn’t used to the war-torn life he and Digg led. As much as she had seen and done with them, it was still all so new to her. The fear, the devastation, the feeling of failure, the anger, the loss, the self-doubt. And she had barely had anyone to help her through it. Least of all him.

Felicity just couldn’t stop herself anymore, hurt and angry words pouring out as Oliver sat mute and watched her fall apart again. “You were the one I reached out to! My first real friend since… since I can’t even remember when. You said if I ever needed to tell someone about my day, I could tell you. And there were  _five months_  worth of days, Oliver! Months worth of nightmares, sleepless nights, feeling like a failure, and being so  _alone_. In those first two months after the quake, I spent half my days screaming when something fell off the desk or the dining table or the kitchen counter because I was just waiting for something to finally collapse and crush me. I needed to talk about it, but there was no one to tell.”

Oliver was frozen, hating himself more with every word Felicity uttered. She was so loyal, staying in the foundry for the mere reason that  _he_  stayed. But he had not reciprocated that loyalty.

"You were just gone," Felicity finally told him, tears once again marring her cheeks like rivers as the fire drained out of her and she slumped onto the grip of Oliver’s hands. "My friend abandoned me. And I missed him."

Hardly a sound could be heard in the foundry once Felicity’s words faded into the air, save for her sniffling away tears, the whirring of the computers, and the odd pipe gurgling behind steel-enforced walls. There were no words for what this remarkable woman had gone through. Nothing Oliver could say to make it better. He had left the woman he called ‘friend’ when she most needed him to stay. That was something he could never take back.

"I’m sorry, Felicity," was all Oliver could think to say, all he could manage to put into words. Everything else failed him.

Felicity nodded, and her down-turned face spoke the understanding she harbored, but still Oliver wanted — no, needed — to do more. To make up for it somehow…

No. No, not even that, he realized with pained grimace. He couldn’t make up for it. That just wasn’t possible. What he  _could_  do was be different from then on; be a better friend.

Split-second decisions usually didn’t end well when Oliver was the one implementing them, but this time it felt different. It felt right. Making up his mind, the billionaire moved to a position on his knees so he could face his IT girl properly.

"Felicity," he began quietly, regretfully, squeezing her arms to bring her gaze up. When she did, blue eyes drier than they had been, Oliver took a breath to settle himself before going on, "I am so sorry for abandoning you. I failed you that night. And I failed you for five months afterward. I know I can’t fix that; I can’t take it back, no matter how much I wish I could."

Pausing for a long moment, Oliver held Felicity’s eyes, begging her to see the sincerity in his own. Something flashed in the depths of her gaze that he’d never seen before, but she nodded.

"When I left, it was purely a selfish move," Oliver admitted reluctantly. "After Tommy’s funeral, I… I just couldn’t take the memories. All of the things we’d said and done, the way he saw me when he died… It killed me to remember. It was all so complicated and difficult here. So I ran. Back to the place where I had lived in simplicity before returning to the wildness of the city. But in doing so, I left behind a mess. People needed me and I thought only of myself."

Felicity stared as Oliver finally opened up a part of himself he hadn’t even planned to discuss. Yet it felt as though this woman, of all people, deserved to know why he had abandoned her. After all she’d lived through, the support she’d shown him, and the friendship he’d claimed but never truly given.

"If you’ll let me," Oliver spoke again, glancing away from those big blue eyes self-consciously, "I’d like change that. To be your friend. Genuinely, this time. I want you to come to me and talk about your day, even when you don’t  _need_  to. I’ve missed a lot of days now, and I’m not very good at being emotionally supportive… but will you let me try?”

A small smile worked its way onto Felicity’s features, the sight warming Oliver with its simple kindness and understanding.

"I do kind of need a friend right now," she whispered, her smile wobbling a little as she remembered Barry.

"Then let’s get out of here," Oliver smiled fondly, trying to remember what people did for comfort after a heartbreak. After McKenna, he ending up drinking companionably with Tommy for the first time since he revealed himself. Other than that, he’d never had a normal breakup ‘routine’ and he certainly wasn’t about to inquire into Thea’s numerous breakups before Roy came along.

Disregarding all of that, Oliver decided to offer up the things he knew Felicity loved when she was relaxed. “We’ll get ice cream, red wine, movies… You can talk my ear off or we can sit in silence. Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

"I am a little hungry," Felicity shyly informed him, just when her stomach chose to grumble loudly. Oliver chuckled and helped her up from the chair, the blanket falling into the seat.

"Do you want to eat-in somewhere?" he wondered hesitantly. "It’s still early. And it would be a shame to waste your festive outfit."

Indeed, without the blanket in the way, Oliver could see just how festive the outfit was. The dress was a red and white lace-paneled number which Oliver remembered as being Dolce & Gabbana.

The only reason he wasn’t worried about having such intimate knowledge of a designer dress was because Thea had raved about the designers’ new 2014 line. Before their mother’s release, Thea had resorted to praising her favorite fashion with her big brother because there really wasn’t anyone else. She’d flashed the Dolce photos in front of his face for at least thirty minutes when he dared to ask her why the dresses were so special.

"I don’t know," Felicity hesitated, chewing her lip uncertainly. "It sounds nice, but… I wouldn’t want Barry to see us in a tabloid or online and think he was right. And who knows what Laurel or Thea or someone would think about it. That’s just asking for trouble."

Oliver thought through the possibilities — the newspapers, the online rumor mills, and the gossip rags — and cringed a bit at the implications.

"Well," he sighed, "Thea wouldn’t be an issue, but I can see where a lot of other people would be."

Frowning, Oliver tried in vain to think of something else, but kept falling short. It got to the point where he decided they might end up changing into more casual clothes, after all, and just get takeout.

It was the very idea of going home to change clothes which gave him a sudden brainchild.

"I’ve got an idea," he told Felicity with a mysterious smile, amused to see her looking dubiously at him when he pulled out his phone to send a message.

"I’m not so sure about putting my trust in you right now," she murmured a bit skeptically when he had finished the message, allowing him to lead her to the stairs with a hand at her back, "but I guess that isn’t even a choice anymore. I just do it with you anyway."

Oliver stopped and stared askance for all of five seconds before the blood drained from Felicity’s face.

"Oh, God, I did not just say that out loud," the woman in question whispered, mortified, into her hands.

Oliver barely withheld a snort of laughter and continued guiding his now pink-faced partner up the stairs, and out of the club that had been booming above their sound-proofed hideaway.

* * *

 


	3. A Genuine Friend

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_ or _The Flash_ , which belong to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: A story that takes place sometime during or after Arrow Episode 2x09 (Three Ghosts). Please remember this was before we actually met Barry on the show. Onto the next part here. A lot less angst and drama, and a lot more loveliness, I think. Russian phrases are translated at the end. They were taken mostly from Google Translate, so nobody arrow me if they're wrong. :P Here are [outfit inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65029852401/melancholy-blues-festive-felicitys-festive) for the story. Also posted on my Tumblr account [Hoodsmoaked](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/).

> **Chapter 3: A Genuine Friend**

Oliver had to keep his mild grin in check as he drove away from Felicity’s apartment two hours later. The blonde kept sending him funny looks every few seconds; sometimes exasperated, sometimes irritated, and sometimes downright frustrated. The only uniting factor was the curiosity present each time.

The billionaire felt quite pleased with the way she had been able to let go of her trouble with Barry for the time being. And it was Oliver’s plan that had done it. Not to mention Oliver himself was able to let go of the situation with Laurel for now. Hopefully it wasn’t  _too_  smug of him to feel proud of himself.

"Oliver, seriously, why did you make me pack an overnight bag?" Felicity finally asked him, this time opting for exasperation. "I’m already dressed. You said I didn’t need to change."

"Indeed you don’t," he assured her, allowing the corner of his mouth to quirk up when she groaned over his vague answer.

"I hate it when you get this way," she sighed irritably. "It’s like when you’re happy, you suddenly are the best liar in the city. What  _is_  it about that, anyway?”

"I guess when I’m happy, I have a better reason for the lie," He shrugged, frowning in thought.

"Great," Felicity muttered sarcastically towards the window, bringing another subdued grin out of Oliver.

When they pulled into the driveway of the mansion, Felicity started to suspect.

"Oliver," she warned quietly, giving him a firm look which he just smiled at.

"You deserve a night of relaxation," was all he said in reply, and she remained speechless until he parked right in front. Before she could argue his choice, Oliver had already popped out of the car and started walking to her side.

By the time he pulled open her door and extended a hand, Felicity had calmed considerably, although her amused exasperation did not yield.

"I suppose I need to humor you," she sighed, grasping his hand and allowing him to pull her from the vehicle.

Oliver chuckled lightly, feeling strangely giddy now that his IT girl had essentially given him the go-ahead. “I suppose so.”

Shaking her blond head, Felicity remained silent as they walked into the warmth of the mansion.

"Oh, I love heating systems," she remarked first, scurrying away from the cool outside air as Oliver shut the door behind them.

"Let me take your coat," the billionaire offered quietly.

"Oh!" Felicity started from rubbing her gloved hands together, stepping awkwardly back towards his reaching hands.

The simple white winter coat in hand, Oliver removed his own dark gray coat and hung both side by side in the foyer closet.

"Miss Smoak," Oliver stepped back to her side, offering his arm and smiling a little as he anticipated her reaction.

"Why, Mr. Queen." Felicity tamped down a grin and accepted the proffered limb. "You really must show your gentlemanly side more often."

"Only for you," Oliver whispered teasingly, amused by the blush that lit up his IT girl’s face.

Giving her the walk through the mansion as a time of recovery from his awkward teasing, Oliver felt a little anxiety creeping in. It wasn’t every day he did what he had planned; particularly as it pertained to Felicity. But she had been so downhearted and he knew they both needed a bit of relaxation from their messed up love lives.

Raisa waited outside the door in her very best serving attire when they arrived at their destination, the smile on her face pleasant and — once she noticed his nervousness — encouraging.

"Welcome, Miss Felicity," the housekeeper greeted warmly.

"Thank you, Raisa," Felicity responded a bit shyly, smiling at the kind woman she had met only once before — at the investment party Oliver had given months earlier. Felicity had come early in order to acclimate herself to the general areas of the mansion in case of emergencies, and Oliver had been only to happy to introduce the two most trustworthy women in his life to each other.

"Все готово?" Oliver asked, using Russian only, so as to keep Felicity in suspense.

"Как вы просили." Raisa was cool as a cucumber, patting his arm reassuringly.

"Thank you," he murmured in English once again, turning to a suspicious looking Felicity and feeling a little sheepish.

"Please, go in," Raisa spoke before Felicity could question, opening the double doors with a smile and stepping back to let them through.

Felicity looked away from Oliver at the very last second, and stopped dead in her tracks with a loud gasp.

Oliver truly grinned as he saw it with his own eyes. He had instructed Raisa on a general idea, but she had gone far above and beyond that, creating an atmosphere of elegance and warmth that surpassed the best of the best in Starling City.

"What… What is all of this? Oliver?" Felicity spoke to him with hushed shock.

"I didn’t want your outfit to be wasted on a mediocre meal in our formal dining room," the billionaire shrugged nervously, reaching up to adjust his tie. "So I asked Raisa to create this instead."

"Isn’t this… the ballroom?" the blonde choked out, letting go of Olive’s arm so she could move deeper into the expansive space and examine the many details.

"Yes," he nodded, though she couldn’t see him.

"It’s— My God, it’s so amazing!" Felicity whispered in awe, turning in a slow circle to look at everything. From the long crimson drapes on every window, to the sparkling lights hanging in twinkling strands from whatever high spot could be found, to the warm glow of the blazing fireplace across the room.

Crystal and silver glittered everywhere in the room, but no place more than the elegantly-draped table in the middle of the floor. Instead of the typical dining chairs, Raisa had pulled in wing-back armchairs in a color to match the drapes. Trinkets, candles in sparkling glass, and decorations of all sorts littered the room and the central table to create a comfortable, familiar holiday atmosphere without too many frills and severely thematic ideas intruding.

The only question left was his IT girl’s reaction, and though it had been favorable upon first impression, she took a long while to examine the ballroom after her first excited remark.

"You did…  _all_  of…” Felicity spoke up at last, pursing her lips and waving her arms wide so as to encompass the entire space, incapable of describing the things done to the ballroom in grand enough terms. Finally she just sighed and said what came to mind, “All of this…  _just_  so I wouldn’t have to waste my dress?”

Oliver twitched uncomfortably, straightening cuffs and lapels that didn’t need straightening — all in an attempt to coalesce his thoughts in a feasible way. In the end, he realized he was incapable of doing so, and simply answered as honestly as he knew how.

"You were so unhappy… about what happened with Barry," he began quietly, hardly daring to look at his brilliant friend. "I… I hated the idea that you invested so much into tonight, only to have it wasted because a random encounter became misconstrued."

"That doesn’t really explain the offer to have dinner somewhere," Felicity countered softly, heels clicking on polished marble as she moved closer. "You already cheered me up, you know. I mean… just sharing takeout with you would have been great…"

"I know," Oliver sighed disappointedly, keeping his eyes trained on her white and red pumps. "I just… I wanted to be a genuine friend, like I told you at Verdant. The kind of friend that has no limits to how they’ll support you when the day gets too difficult. The one who makes up crazy ideas just to make you feel better after a rough day."

"I don’t even know how to respond to that," Felicity laughed gently, almost embarrassedly. Oliver lifted his eyes hopefully.

"Does that mean you’re okay with this?" he made sure, hesitant to jump right back in if it bothered her.

"Who could argue with a friend like you?" Felicity smiled widely, reaching out to lay a grateful hand on his arm. Oliver found himself responding with a wider smile than he had worn in weeks and twisted her hand into his.

"Shall we?" Oliver inquired teasingly, leading her towards the table. Felicity laughed at his about-face in attitude and nodded enthusiastically.

Raisa’s chosen entree samplings surpassed The Palisades and every other restaurant in town, or so Felicity said after she tasted each new dish. Cod served with butter-herb sauce and grilled Spanish vegetables; roast Atlantic salmon stuffed with spinach and goat cheese; shrimp and asparagus tossed in wine sauce and served over angel hair pasta; and scallops and linguine with tomato-cream sauce. According to Felicity, each different and spectacular glass of wine matched every dish to perfection, something even Oliver had to agree with.

"Ugh, Oliver, I am totally rewriting my contract," Felicity mentioned out of the blue after they had both polished off the last of their samplings. Oliver worried for all of two minutes before the IT expert clarified, "I will only stay as your EA if I can keep your chef."

Laughter bubbled up in Oliver’s throat, but he knew better than to let it surface.

"See?" he said instead, smiling for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "I told you — you needed a night of relaxation.  _And_ … it’s not over yet.”

"What?" Felicity half-laughed, looking up at him in surprise.

"I thought we could watch a movie or… a tv show," Oliver threw his hands up in a gesture of confusion. "Something you like, anyway."

"Really?" the blonde smiled hesitantly. "I get the feeling you won’t like my kinds of shows."

"Try me," Oliver retorted teasingly. "I can handle a chick flick or a rom-com with pretty good humor."

"I should hold you to that," Felicity laughed out loud, rising from her seat when he did. Sighing a little resignedly, Oliver just shrugged in defeat and offered his arm again to lead them away from the ballroom.

"Now I know why you wanted me to bring an overnight bag," Felicity told him wryly as they walked. "I never thought you and I would have a sleepover."

She came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, growling in long-suffering frustration, "Not. A. Word.”

Oliver had to bite his lip to keep from snorting.

* * *

_Russian Translations:_

  * Все готово? // Is everything ready? (Oliver)
  * Как вы просили. // As you requested it. (Raisa)
  * Thanks to mimozka for sorting Raisa’s line. :)




	4. A Special Team

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_ or _The Flash_ , which belong to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: A story that takes place sometime during or after Arrow Episode 2x09 (Three Ghosts). Please remember this was before we actually met Barry on the show. This is the fourth and final part! I did not even expect this part at all, but I really love how it ended. Here are [outfit inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65029852401/melancholy-blues-festive-felicitys-festive) for the story. Also posted on my Tumblr account [Hoodsmoaked](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/).

> **Chapter 4: A Special Team**

Apparently, Felicity took Oliver’s challenge very seriously. The billionaire may or may not have groaned internally when his IT girl picked out  _Love, Actually_. It was a movie he remembered from before his years on the island, although he had never actually watched it. Laurel had wanted to see it once, but he had refused for ‘macho’ reasons that made little sense in the grand scheme of things.

"You really enjoy testing my endurance," Oliver teased from his seat on the sofa as Felicity put in the DVD. His comments came more naturally now that he was at ease in jeans and a simple navy pullover; he’d even neglected socks, he felt so comfortable.

"And he thinks  _I_  make bad verbal gaffes,” Felicity muttered, clearly under the impression it was too quiet for Oliver to hear.

"What was that, Felicity?" the billionaire called her on it, withholding a small grin.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Felicity declined an answer, “Nothing at all.”

"Mm-hm," Oliver mocked jokingly, refraining from further comment.

"Oh, shut up," Felicity muttered mutinously, settling onto the sofa beside him and tucking her legs up underneath her. She, too, had changed into a more casual outfit, although because of Oliver’s secrecy, he hadn’t been able to convince her that ‘casual’ meant ‘pants’ without revealing his plans. Thus, Felicity’s outfit consisted of a knee-length red plaid skirt and a long-sleeved gray sweater.

Approximately a third of the movie had passed when Raisa entered the room bearing an artful tray of pavlova tarts, coconut truffles, two glasses, and a full bottle of Malbec, Raisa’s favorite for desserts.

"Ooh!" Felicity exclaimed in a hushed voice, making Raisa laugh as she left the room.

"I’d ask if you want any," Oliver chuckled, leaning over to uncork the wine and let it breathe, "but the answer is written all over your face."

"I love coconut and strawberries… and I  _certainly_  love red wine,” Felicity informed him enthusiastically, reaching for one of each sweet treat with eager hands. Clearly she had a difficult time not grabbing the wine as well, but she sat back with a muffled sigh of resignation. Oliver huffed a laugh, trying not to, but incapable of stopping.

Like any self-respecting person, Felicity ignored him and successfully focused on the movie for another twenty minutes. It was only Oliver’s offer of a full wine glass that brought her back to reality.

"Thanks," she smiled cheekily, like a little child who had cleverly convinced her parents to give her an early Christmas present.

As the movie continued on, Oliver found his eyes straying with increasing frequency towards his blond friend, whose expressions varied from amusement to sadness to joy to actual tears, and beyond. Oliver had never seen her so open and it made him feel a level of peace he hadn’t experienced in an age, bringing a soft smile to his face.

Credits began rolling before Oliver realized, and Felicity turned to face him before he could even think to turn away.

Startled by his intent, gentle gaze, the blonde flushed lightly, but asked anyway, “What is it?”

Shaking his head, Oliver answered, “You.”

Raising a brow in awkward confusion, Felicity tried to understand. “Is there coconut on my face or something?”

Laughing at the strangely appealing notion and pushing it away forcefully, Oliver shook his head no. “Nothing is on your face. I just like how free you look.”

Tilting her head in that endearing way she always did, Felicity smiled slightly, still a bit confused but seemingly willing to go along with it.

"I could say the same," she told him quietly, a sliver of sadness insinuating itself into her tiny smile.

"It’s nice to be with someone I don’t have to hide from," Oliver murmured in return, remembering his foolish comment to Helena the previous year. That had not been true transparency; he had just engaged in the worst bout of wishful thinking he’d ever encountered. Helena would never see the real Oliver — only the killer, the destroyer.

With Felicity, he came to know understanding of an entirely different sort. The kind of understanding that came with compassion and acceptance. No matter who he was, or how he behaved, Felicity took what he gave and never abandoned him because of it. Even when Oliver abandoned John in favor of Laurel, Felicity didn’t leave.

"Oliver!"

Felicity’s exclamation startled the billionaire from his ponderings with a sharp snap of his neck. The blonde’s eyes were concerned, and he felt badly for worrying her.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I was just thinking."

"Care to share?" Felicity offered cautiously.

"You’ve always been there for me," Oliver decided to tell her after a pause, trying to keep it uncomplicated, but the words swirling in his brain demanded to be released. "No matter how callous and stupid I act, you never leave me. I rarely thought about how much crap you take from me day after day. Or how little you ask in return. Saying thank you doesn’t seem enough…"

He trailed off thoughtfully for a minute, only beginning again when Felicity’s smaller hand covered his own.

"I think that’s part of why I did this," Oliver admitted, the fact new to him as well. "I can never repay what I’ve put you through, in either part of our lives. I wanted to try and be there in all the ways I haven’t been before, but it’s not a scrape I can kiss and make better. And it… I hate myself for that."

"Oliver," Felicity reprimanded him gently, squeezing his hand.

"I know that’s selfish to dwell on," he continued heedlessly. "It’s almost impossible to reconcile, though. You deserve a wonderful life, Felicity."

So saying, Oliver turned to face her, his expression thoroughly earnest. “You deserve to be utterly happy and unburdened by this…  _mess_  you’ve become embroiled in… Yet I need you here.”

The last came out just shy of a growl, the frustration evident. Swiping an agitated hand through his hair, Oliver didn’t notice his companion turning to face him, or the arms that came up in a whirl of movement to hug his neck in a vicelike grip.

"You can be so  _dumb_  sometimes,” Felicity half-laughed in his ear, her blond curls fluffed up in his face and a wobbly, emotional shade to her voice. Hesitantly, the billionaire put his own arms around her back as she went on, “As if I didn’t know how deadly your world was before I made my place in it? For God’s sake, you gave me a bullet-ridden laptop, black arrows, Vertigo in a syringe, and secret information about a black-ops group destroying armored cars. And then you ended up in my backseat bleeding to death from a bullet wound inflicted by your own mother. If I couldn’t figure out how dangerous this life can be, I’d have to be a pretty big idiot.”

Oliver tried to speak, even took a breath to do so, but Felicity cut him off. 

"You’ve given me something to genuinely care about, Oliver," she told him with strength, pulling back slightly from the hug to stare him straight in the eye. "I don’t need two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence to be happy. And I don’t  _want_  it. I never have. Can you see me baking cakes and cookies, driving the kids to soccer practice, and only using a computer to check my facebook page?”

Oliver actually snorted at the idea, his humor returning thanks to the strong woman beside him.

"I love what we do," Felicity said with an easy smile, no doubt whatsoever in her words. "I know I’ve complained about becoming your E.A. And you were wrong not to ask me first, it’s true… But sometimes our dreams and ambitions aren’t feasible. Maybe if I had stayed in the IT department, I would have died or lost my job or… any number of possibilities."

Oliver cringed away from the idea of her death, to which Felicity soothed him kindly, patting his shoulders reassuringly. “That’s not how it went down, but perhaps it could have. Whatever possibilities there might have been, I’m content with my position now — in both sides of our lives. No matter how dark it gets, I know I’m doing worthwhile, meaningful work. We’re going to get this city back on track, Oliver. Somehow, we’ll do it. We’re a  _team_. Look at the wild, crazy things we’ve been able to accomplish together and tell me I belong somewhere else. Can you do it? Can you honestly tell me that?”

Oliver thought through all kinds of scenarios, every type of family dynamic and career move and change of scenery… But it didn’t work. He couldn’t imagine Felicity Smoak anywhere, but where she was — at his side.

"No," he confessed quietly.

"Then don’t ever hate yourself for it," Felicity demanded gently. "I certainly don’t."

A smile crossed Oliver’s face without his permission, the sight of his IT girl so earnest in her faith, her bright blue eyes sparkling with hope and trust, was more than he could take without grinning a little.

"You really do belong here," the billionaire continued to smile, reaching up to tuck errant strands of blond behind Felicity’s ear. "You’re a part of this."

A part of  _me_ , he thought to himself.

Smiling widely, Felicity darted forward to kiss his forehead before sitting down beside him once more.

"That’s what I like to hear," she told him happily, hopping up just as quickly and dashing to the Queens’ collection of films. Oliver couldn’t stop smiling at her bubbly personality. "Now, I want a classic. I may not celebrate Christmas, but I love a good movie and this one is it."

Giving her a questioning look as he put his bare feet up on the coffee table, Oliver wondered what she was talking about.

"A Christmas Carol," she informed him matter-of-factly, scurrying over to put the new film in and then back to the sofa, grabbing their glasses of wine as she went.

When Felicity settled in beside Oliver, it felt exceptionally natural to slip his arm around her small shoulders and tuck her into his side. Blushing, the blonde nervously burrowed a bit closer, laying her head somewhat near Oliver’s shoulder.

"Do normal friends always do this kind of thing?" Felicity asked randomly. "I mean, not that we’re abnormal or anything… We’re perfectly normal individuals. Aside from one of us having mad hacking skills, or firing arrows at bad guys, or wearing a green hood… or tight leather pants… And I’m going to stop talking now."

Oliver held in his laughter admirably well, ducking his face into blond curls to hide his amusement. Felicity smacked his arm all the same as the opening titles ended and the story of Ebenezer Scrooge began.

In the wee hours, Raisa found the two of them asleep on the sofa, two empty wine glasses on the coffee table. Felicity’s body curled tightly into Oliver’s side and his arms wound around the young woman like a fitted glove, his head leaning comfortably atop hers. The housekeeper quietly laid a blanket over the two, careful not to wake them, and took one long moment to observe how peaceful and content they both were.

When they woke, their lives would return to a place of awkward professionalism and partnership. Oliver wasn’t ready to face the strength and depth of his feelings towards the perky, intelligent blonde. Nor was cautious Felicity Smoak prepared for the same admission towards her employer and friend.

Yet some day (and Raisa would happily wait it out for as long as it took), Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak would become a special team indeed.

* * *

 


End file.
